


Shield and Spell

by TheHolyOnes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut maybe, F/M, Falling In Love, I really don't know, Nerds in Love, Nightmares, Romance, definitely a lot of fluff, forbidden romance kinda, mage / templar, somewhat canon, very awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:52:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolyOnes/pseuds/TheHolyOnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen Rutherford does not need more magic in his life and yet the strange woman they now call the Herald of Andraste is a dangerous mage from the Free Marshes. Since the fall of the Ferelden Circle of Magi and the destruction of Kirkwall, he has distrusted mages and has regretted ever harboring any ill-founded affections for one mage in particular. Lady Trevelyan, no matter how wry her smirks or sharp her mind, is not to be trusted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shield and Spell

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've been working on between my Solavellan chapters. This will probably be updated biweekly as the chapters are super long right now. This will be following the story arch of Inquisition and this will be a slow-burn growing of affection. This will not be completely canonical. Everything is consensual though there are hints at a not-so-consensual act in the past though there will be no graphic details accompanying the memory. Some swearing. Eventual fluff and light smut. 
> 
> As always, keep my narcissistic ass inspired by leaving kudos and comments. I love them, even if you're correcting my grammar.

# Knight Commander

 

The door banged open, interrupting his briefing and causing Cullen’s headache to flare from the noise. “I have the dossier on the prisoner,” Leliana announced as she entered Josephine’s dark office in Haven’s Chantry. “It is … _interesting_ to say in the least.”

Josephine rose from the desk that she and Cullen had been sitting at and reviewed the paper with Leliana. Having been out in the field for the last three days fighting off monstrous demons had left Cullen fatigued and with a headache without his lyrium, but he managed to stand up and inquire, “Well? Who is she?”

“Her name is Ophelia Trevelyan, the oldest daughter of Bann Trevelyan in the Free Marshes,” Leliana read. The Left Hand’s eyes were roaming across the page as well as Lady Montilyet’s. “She was part of the Ostwick Circle of Magi’s representatives at the Conclave.”

“Trevelyan? I know that name. I have attended a ball or two of Lucille Trevelyan. She is the Bann’s daughter?” Josephine asked, concerned that they may have an important noble imprisoned and not just a common mage. Cullen had been informed that the prisoner was a mage when she was brought into Haven, but he had paid little attention to her otherwise. With demons falling from the sky he had larger concerns than hovering over an unconscious mage in shackles.

“Yes, the Trevelyans are a minor house but well-respected and wealthy. But she is apparently the black sheep of the family,” Leliana responded. “The rest of her siblings and family are outstanding citizens, her younger sister Eloise is a Templar, in fact. But it seems Messere Trevelyan has caused her family much despair due to her less than savory habits and magical ability.”

“Really? I have never met the woman or heard such rumors,” Josephine stated, her eyes bright with the possibility of hearing gossip. “Then again, after she went to the Circle, she was barely spoken of.”

Leliana cleared her throat before continuing, “Here is the report: ‘Lady Trevelyan has garnered a most infamous reputation. Her magic manifested at a young age but because she was the heir to the family, the Trevelyans kept her magic a secret for several years and hired an apostate to tutor her in magic. She was finally tracked down by Templars after having set fire to her betrothed’s clothing when she was fourteen. Since joining the Circle, Lady Trevelyan has escaped four times. She was apprehended in Val Royeaux, Antiva City, and twice upon returning from the sea with Captain Isabela, one of Amirah Hawke’s associates. It has been several years since her last escape and she has published four novels upon mathematics, physics, and alchemical processes. She is considered a genius in the Circle though she is known to smuggle liquor, pick locks, and gamble. Her name carries significant weight in noble circles and she was chosen as one of the representatives for the Conclave considering her elevated status in the Circle.” Leliana marveled.

“She set _fire_ to her betrothed?” Josephine fretted.

“He was thirty years her senior. Perhaps we do not know the whole situation,” Leliana explained, putting the dossier down on the desk.

“That’s quite an incriminating description,” Cullen remarked, his hand absently rubbing his forehead to lessen the pain of his headache.

“Yes, it is,” Cassandra agreed from the doorway. Cullen had not heard the woman come into the room due to being engrossed by Leliana’s description. Cassandra left the doorframe and addressed Leliana, “The prisoner is waking. The apostate Solas has left to try to close the rifts around the Breach with Varric, but the prisoner may be needed. Solas hypothesized that she may be able to close it with the mark upon her hand,” She turned her head to Cullen, “You are needed in the valley, Commander. Our forces are losing ground and we may need to reach the Temple’s remains to test the mark on the prisoner’s hand.”

“Of course,” Cullen agreed. He removed his hand from his forehead and winced at the pain.

In a lower tone the Seeker asked, “Are you well?”

“I am fine, thank you,” he replied flatly. Although he appreciated Cassandra’s concern, he did not like to be coddled for his decision not to take any lyrium, especially not in front of the others. It had not been long since he had stopped taking the addictive substance that gave him his Templar abilities but already he felt the effects on his mind and body. He was feebler and slower, but he could not show any weakness. He was proving a point for all Templars by abstaining from lyrium and he must not let anyone else see what the withdrawals were doing to his mind and body.

He left the others and departed from the Chantry building when he was immediately met with one of Leliana’s scouts with news regarding the tide of the battle with the demons. As Cassandra had stated, they were not doing well. Demons kept pouring from the Breach and it only continued to expand.

Demons. They had plagued his nightmares for far too long. The events at the Ferelden Circle of Magi and then later at Kirkwall had shaken his confidence in the Chantry, the Templar Order, and especially himself. For days, possibly weeks, he had been tortured by the demons and blood mages, his worst fears and sins brought to light and replayed over and over again in his head. They had utterly broken him. Worse, they had dangled Amell before him, the sweet and courageous mage for whom, in his youthful ignorance, he had harbored a forbidden affection. She became a brand across his eyes and when she had finally arrived in the flesh as a Grey Warden, he had been cruel and sneered at her compassion for wanting to save the remaining mages. It was not until much later that he realized that he was wrong to dismiss her compassion as weakness. The Circle, as well as Ferelden, had survived thanks to her and he owed her his life.

As strange and horrible as the events of the past decade had been, what was happening now was unthinkable. A hole in the sky that spewed demons from the Fade. What little forces they had been strapped for days trying to keep the demons away from Haven, but they were losing ground quickly.

“How are our defenses?” Cullen asked of the scout that walked beside him.

“Worsening by the moment, sir,” the scout replied. “The demons have broken down our blockades and as soon as we kill one another takes its place.”

“The prisoner has awoken and we need to make an attempt to close the Breach with the mark on her hand. We will need to cut a path through the demons,” Cullen explained. He noted the flash of anger that came across the scout’s face when he mentioned the prisoner. While there was no definitive proof that this Trevelyan had destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes, it was clear that the people of Haven believed otherwise. Cullen did not know what he believed regarding the prisoner’s innocence nor did it matter. If she could fix the hole in the sky, then they would have to clear a path for her, innocent or not.

Cullen and a group of soldiers climbed the mountain path to the Temple’s remains. Gentle flurries followed them as they ascended and their footing was questionable at best, but the soldiers climbed onward with his encouragement. They stopped at the forward camp to gather any last minute supplies before departing once more. They were approaching the Temple of Sacred Ashes when a rift opened before them and a dozen or more demons charged into the physical world. Cullen unsheathed his sword and raised his shield to defend the soldiers around him. As he waited for the demons to approach his mind briefly flashed back to the Circle of Ferelden years before and for a moment he saw two different times intersecting around him. A cold finger of fear ran up his spine but he steeled himself with a prayer.

“Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just,” he murmured under his breath as he blocked a rage demon’s attack. Fire splayed across his shield and he could feel the heat radiating through the metal and into his skin. He struck at the demon as it turned its focus to another solider and his blade went deep into the demon’s side.

They must push forward. As he drew back his sword for another attack a wisp demon struck him with a bolt of energy. He faltered and watched as the rage demon consumed one of the soldiers that had been by Cullen’s side. He charged once more at the rage demon, bashing his shield against it and following it with a flurry of cuts from his sword. The demon, bleeding ichor, weakened and fell and burst into fragments of the Fade that flew into the sky and back into the rift.

He turned to see how his soldiers were faring but instead stood face-to-face with a shade that loomed over him. It waited for him to strike. Cullen turned his sword over in his hand, savoring the weight of it and calculating how much longer he could continue without the lyrium.

“Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow,” he uttered before charging once more.

During battle, there was little need for marking time or consideration of what had happened only a moment ago. How much time passed was irrelevant because there was only the present and what needed to be done in that exact moment. As demon after demon was cut down by him and the soldiers, Cullen grew weaker and though he had no concept of how much time had passed, he knew there would not be much left for him. He considered calling a retreat for many of his soldiers had already perished or fallen back, but he had to be strong for himself and his pride.

He feinted a fear demon’s attack and proceeded to chop off its clawed hand. Ichor spewed forth and Cullen dodged out of its way only to feel a terrible cold behind him. He whipped around the see a despair demon reaching out for him and the chill burrowed into his bones as he attempted to raise his heavy shield.

A pinprick of light appeared in the despair demon’s gaping mouth that grew orange then red and then exploded into fire. Cullen backed away from the now burning demon and watched as several of the demons around him burst into flames from a wall of fire that carefully snaked through his line of soldiers. Seeker Cassandra was calling his name and he turned to see her cutting through demons as three others followed her. The dwarf Varric was loading his crossbow at an incredible rate and releasing volleys of bolts at the demons falling from the sky. The apostate elf Solas was also with them, wielding ice magic that stopped the demons in their tracks. He had met both before, though briefly, and was relieved to see them as well as Cassandra.

A wall of fire appeared by his side, driving back a demon that had been coming at him and through the flames he saw a distorted figure running into the battle with a staff in its hands that lashed out at the demons. Fire swirled about the figure like a hundred swords cutting through the air that struck at the demons in a sweeping of blades. As the wall of fire lowered, Cullen saw that the figure was a red-headed woman, a mage with Knight Enchanter training. It must be the prisoner.

Her style of fighting was very physical for a mage. The blades of fire that circled around her like wings struck out at her enemies in tandem with strikes from her staff. He even spotted her throwing a fiery punch at one the demons and knocking it over. She made short work of the remaining demons and then raised her glowing hand to the rift. A beam of green light radiated from her left hand and joined with the rift’s eerie light. With a satisfying roar and a blast of wind, the mark on the prisoner’s hand sealed the rift and the world stuttered into quiet once more.

“Commander,” Cassandra greeted Cullen once the danger had passed.

“Lady Seeker,” Cullen replied as he sheathed his sword and lowered his shield. He looked at the soldiers around him, not so many had been lost as he had assumed but what losses they had incurred were still considerable. “Thank you for your timely intervention.”

“Thank the prisoner, she chose this route,” Cassandra corrected him with a nod of her head at the red-haired mage who was intently looking at the mark on her hand. The Seeker called to the prisoner, “Lady Trevelyan, this is Commander Cullen.”

Trevelyan looked up from her hand and gazed at the two of them before crossing the clearing. She wore dark blue and gold robes of a circle mage that were torn and bloody from fighting with the demons, but her countenance was unaffected as though she were above the whole situation. She was a slight woman of average height with some muscle definition apparent under her robes. Were she not covered in blood and ichor with a large welt across her face she would have been striking with her short red hair and sea-foam green eyes.

“So you’re the prisoner,” Cullen remarked once she was close. “I hope you can close the Breach. Many died clearing the way to the Temple for you.”

“You’re not the only one hoping that,” Trevelyan replied with a wry smirk. Her smile, though sardonic, made her stern face softer if only for a moment. Close up, he saw that her tan face was splashed with freckles across her cheeks and a thin scar ran vertically over her right eye from her forehead to the middle of her cheek.

Cassandra told him to fall back with the other soldiers, to which he readily agreed for the soldiers’ sakes. The path to the Temple had been cleared and now it was up to Leliana’s people and the prisoner to close the Breach, if possible. Before leaving the field, Cullen wished the prisoner and Cassandra luck closing the Breach.

“Oh, we’ll need it,” Trevelyan replied as she looked up at the Breach with skeptical, narrowed eyes.

As Cassandra and the others parted from the wounded soldiers toward the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Cullen heard Trevelyan say to Cassandra, “So if I attempt to close the Breach and we all die, which is the most likely outcome, does that mean that I am absolved of the crimes with which I have been charged? I cannot perish with false accusations pinned to my family’s name, end-of-the-world or not.” He did not hear Cassandra’s reply though he imagined it was one of her derisive grunts that she was oft making because of Varric nowadays.

His soldiers descended the path that they had cleared to return to the forward camp. The demons were gone and patches of the earth had been razed by what Cullen assumed was Trevelyan’s fire. Once his injured soldiers were settled in the camp, he bid those that were rested to join him at the Temple to give Leliana and Cassandra some much needed reinforcement.

He barely had time to gather what little strength he had left before they headed out to battle once more. The trek up the mountain path utterly exhausted him. He caught his second wind as he heard the sounds of battle coming from the Temple and he increased his pace though his body protested every movement. The sky around the Breach was filled with green light and something was happening to the rift at the base of the Breach. His dozen or so soldiers turned the corner of the path only see a giant pride demon falling to the ground, its body riddled with arrows and cuts from swords, its skin raw and oozing from severe burns. As Cassandra beheaded the creature to ensure it was dead and its body dematerialized, Trevelyan walked toward the large rift at the center of the Temple, her arm stretched out to it and her flaming swords still hovering about her body. A beam of green light extended from her hand once more and connected with the rift. He was high above the scene but he could make out her gritted teeth as she walked toward the rift, the energy humming and reverberating in his ears like a wasp, and saw her gripping her left arm with her right hand to steady it.

The noise of the rift came to a crescendo and then burst, knocking everyone in the area off their feet and backwards with a gust of energy. Small bits of rubble fell upon him once he struck the ground but Cullen felt he was, for the most part, uninjured from the blast. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up, his arms shook violently but held. The soldiers around him were also rising but those below on the field, who had been closest to the blast, were taking longer to rise.

The Breach was still in the sky. He was disappointed to see that it still existed but at least no demons were spewing from it and it seemed to have grown smaller. He and the other soldiers descended the steps to where the others had defeated the demon once the scene was safe.

As he and the soldiers approached, the apostate elf Solas walked over to Trevelyan, who lay on the ground prostrate, unmoving. He bent down and held her wrist and after feeling for a pulse, he declared, “She’s alive, but her heartbeat is faint. She needs to rest and rehydrate before she goes into shock.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Trevelyan sighed, her eyes still closed. “I thought I was dead. Shock is better.”

“She will die if we don’t get her back to Haven and give her proper care,” Solas said to the Seeker, who was also bending over Trevelyan.

“We will take her back,” Cassandra agreed. “She stabilized the Breach and the vision we saw has absolved her.”

“Yay, we did it,” Trevelyan weakly cheered, her fingers wiggling in celebration.

Cassandra squatted over Trevelyan and lifted the woman up to rest on her shoulder. Trevelyan weakly draped her arm over Cassandra’s shoulders and they tentatively took a few steps together. One of Cullen’s soldiers, seeing that Trevelyan was slipping off the Seeker, slid down the rubble of the temple and helped support Trevelyan’s other side. Cullen distinctly remembered hearing that same soldier condemning Trevelyan only an hour or so before for the death of Divine Justinia.

As he and the others followed the precession back down the mountain, he heard the other soldiers passing around the story of the vision seen before the rift was closed. Apparently Divine Justinia had called out to Trevelyan to help her before the Temple had exploded. This, as well as the rumor that a woman made of light had been standing behind Trevelyan when she exited the Fade, seemed to have endeared the woman to the people who had previously believed her guilty. When he heard the title “Herald of Andraste” being whispered, he could not help but shake his head in disbelief at the quick turnaround in their opinion of her.

Once at Haven, Trevelyan was dropped off at a cabin to rest and be watched over by the alchemist, who complained bitterly that he was _not_ a healer. Although his body protested, Cullen made a point of visiting his soldiers and talking to the injured that were scattered about Haven. Many asked him about Trevelyan and wanted to know more about her since he had been seen speaking to her, but he did not offer any information. Some questioned why Andraste would send a mage to be their savior, but many others pointed out that both the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall were mages as well.

He did not need the comparison. Amells seemed to have a way of plaguing Cullen. Fortunately there had been no family resembles between the pale-skinned, dark-haired Amells and the tan-skinned, fire-colored hair Trevelyan. He could not stand to have yet another woman related to Amell or Hawke remind him of his shame. He had stood against both of them and both of them had been deemed righteous in their actions for protecting mages.

The rest of the day and evening passed in a blur that he had no recollection of later. Somehow he had stripped himself of armor and had found his cot in the tent he had set up as his headquarters and fallen asleep. His body was so exhausted that his sleep was, thankfully, dreamless, but it did not last long enough. As soon as the sun crested over the mountains, he was awake and dressing in the heavy armor once more. Bruises covered his body and every movement cause him to ache like a man twice his age, but he knew he must get up and prepare for what was to come next.

In the aftermath of the Chantry being destroyed in Kirkwall, Cullen had proven himself to be a capable leader of soldiers. When Cassandra had come to him and seen the work he had done, she had told him of Divine Justinia’s plan of reforming the Inquisition to end the mage and Templar crisis, and she had offered him the position of Commander. It had not been a difficult decision for him. After what Knight Commander Meredith had done in Kirkwall, the atrocities she had committed, and the backlash from Hawke’s friend Anders, it was all too easy to leave that terrible city behind and finally cast off his Templar armor. As a Templar he had never achieved much: in Ferelden he had been unable to help his fellows when abominations took over the tower and in Kirkwall he had been blind to what his Commander had become until it was too late. Perhaps as Commander of the Inquisition, he could finally be proud of his position and make a true difference.

He moved slowly that morning as he moved throughout Haven to see to his soldiers and so missed the meeting that Cassandra, Leliana, Chancellor Roderick, and Trevelyan were having in the Chantry. He did, however, hear whispers about Trevelyan, now dubbed the Herald of Andraste. They said her temper was as fiery as her hair and that fire was her element of choice when using her magic. Some claimed to have seen her in their travels as far as the Anderfels and that she had caught giant orange fish off the coast of Rivain with a fishing lure made of lightning, which she had mounted and gifted to the Antivan princes to entice a proposal of marriage. Others said that she had travelled with the Hero of Ferelden, but they had been immediately corrected – it was the Nightingale who had travelled with Warden Amell and besides she was too young to be in Ferelden during the Blight anyway.

When Cullen finally approached the Chantry in the early afternoon, Leliana and Josephine immediately accosted him and let him know that Seeker Cassandra had declared the Inquisition reborn earlier in the morning. With the Divine dead, they now had to take her wishes into their own hands. Already they had sent word to all corners of Thedas stating their intentions. They hoped to have responses within the week.

“So it’s still happening?” Cullen asked as he passed through the Chantry and into a room off the former pulpit that had been designated as their War Room.

“Yes, the Divine would want us to continue,” Leliana answered. “These rifts are all over Thedas and as of right now our Herald is the only person who can close them.”

“People will flock to the Inquisition once news of her has spread,” Josephine agreed. She was taking down notes as they spoke and seemed to be simultaneously writing a letter on another page. “She will be acting as our agent, spreading the word of the Inquisition herself and gathering allies.”

“We’re going to find out who was behind the Divine’s murder,” Leliana vowed, her thin eyebrows furrowed in anger. “And we are going to stop this senseless war between the mages and Templars.”

“And the mage – Trevelyan – she agreed to this?” Cullen asked. Although she had been at the Conclave, a meeting that had been an attempt at making peace between the mages and Templars, Trevelyan was still a mage – she would look out for her own kind over others. If she had any say in what the Inquisition was doing, she may steer them towards freedom for mages, a disastrous result for all.

“Yes, I agreed,” a voice answered from behind him.

He turned around to see Trevelyan standing at the War Room’s entryway with Cassandra. Both looked better for wear since yesterday save for a bruise blossoming across Trevelyan’s cheek and a slight pallor to her complexion. Like yesterday, she walked into the room as though she was above the situation and untroubled that they were starting something as huge as the Inquisition. The clothing she wore had been borrowed from Josephine, for he remembered the latter wearing the same skirt only days before but despite how poorly the clothing fit her, she appeared to be completely at ease.

She stood before the War Table and greeted the other women, with whom she was apparently completely familiar with. With a smile she thanked Josephine for allowing her to borrow the clothing and to Leliana she asked if there were any remaining ravens to take a message.

“Of course, but I will need to read the letters first,” Leliana replied.

“Undoubtedly,” Trevelyan agreed congenially. “I have many connections in Orlais that may be of advantage to us and my family will be enthused to help the Inquisition, even if Chancellor Roderick believes we will be denounced by the Chantry.”

“Roderick said that?” Cullen asked, feeling left out of the loop.

“He did,” Cassandra answered. “He believes the Herald is still guilty and furthermore he believes it sacrilege to call a mage the Chosen of Andraste.”

“It certainly does raise some eyebrows,” Trevelyan agreed with a smirk.

“After Kirkwall, no one is willing to trust mages,” Cullen remarked. “It will be an uphill battle with the Chantry if they do not condone our actions.”

“Commander Cullen, was it?” Trevelyan asked, fixing her sea foam eyes on him. “We were never properly introduced, but I swear I have heard your name before.”

Cullen swallowed, suddenly all the attention was on him. “We were not. My name is Cullen Rutherford.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Trevelyan nodded. “I am Ophelia Trevelyan. And I remember now, you took over as Knight-Commander in Kirkwall after that dreadful mess. The Ostwick Circle received many mages fleeing from Kirkwall before it was disbanded – you were mentioned by many of them.”

Cullen did not know how to respond to that observation but Trevelyan seemed content to move pass it, though her smirk never quite faded from her mouth. She asked if the Inquisition had any contingencies should the Chantry reject them and it was determined by all that they needed to wait to see what news Leliana’s birds would bring before making a decision. As Redcliffe had been possibly the most negatively impacted by the war between the mages and Templars, it might be their first destination to send Trevelyan out into the world to prove that the Inquisition was a force for good.

“Amell helped the people of Redcliffe once,” Leliana stated, her hands crossed behind her back. “They may be open to a mage’s help once more. But Conner’s actions so long ago may also make them distrust you.”

“The mages have made Redcliffe their base,” Josephine added. “Perhaps, with one of their own representing the Inquisition, we could ally with them to close the Breach.”

“The Templars would suffice as well,” Cullen argued.

“Pure speculation,” Leliana returned.

“I was one of them,” Cullen stated, surprised by how defensive he suddenly felt. “I know what they are capable of.”

“We haven’t received word from either of them yet,” Josephine reminded them. She scratched away at her paper with her pen, making yet another note. “Once we know more about the people’s reactions to us, we can make a plan. For now, we need to recover from the attacks yesterday.”

“You’re right,” Cassandra agreed. She turned to Trevelyan as Leliana and Josephine gathered their things and left the War Room together. The smallest of grimaces crossed the Seeker’s face. “I am sorry that I struck you yesterday, Herald,” she said as she gestured to Trevelyan’s face.

“Oh, this?” Trevelyan laughed, touching the bruise on her face. “I deserved it. I’m afraid I forgot my manners when I woke up in shackles. I apologize for what I called you. It was uncalled for.”

“Where did you learn such an insult?” Cassandra asked.

“Why, I sailed under the flag of Captain Isabela for some time. One learns many savory insults when at sea in the company of pirates,” Trevelyan smiled.

“The same Isabela that travelled with the Champion of Kirkwall?” Cullen asked, surprised. He had been gathering the papers that Josephine had left for him with notes about what missions would need to be completed in the following weeks but he stopped and looked up at the familiar name.

“Yes,” Trevelyan affirmed with a smirk – a common expression for her face, Cullen surmised. “I paid her to let me conduct research at sea once she reclaimed a ship. She made sure that I was able to complete my work. Well, at least when there were no canons firing overhead.”

“All the evidence pointed toward you being responsible for what happened at the Conclave, but I should not have struck you. It won’t happen again except with good cause, Herald,” Cassandra reiterated.

“It’s fine, really,” Trevelyan repeated as she gingerly touched the bruise with her fingers. “I heal quickly. I imagine it will be gone in one or two weeks.”

Cassandra sighed, looking at the bruise again. “Hopefully it will be gone before you go out into the world as one of our agents. You will be the best suited to gain us allies as the Herald of Andraste.”

“’Herald of Andraste,’” Cullen repeated. “You went from being reviled to being chosen by Andraste to save all of Thedas. What do you think of that title?”

He had asked to gage her personality, her sense of importance. If this was to be her title, she would need to live up to it, whether Andraste had really chosen her or not. He had not seen her emerge from the Fade after the Conclave, but he had heard what others had seen and he had seen her stabilize the rift. She had been so weak the day before after doing so and yet here she stood with a smirking, bruised face as she considered the question.

“I would like to believe that she chose me,” Trevelyan answered a moment of silence. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her expression changed to a thoughtful one, the same expression she had had on her face when she studied the mark on her hand yesterday. “I believe in the Maker, but I cannot help but find it odd that a mage would be Andraste’s chosen. But then again, perhaps she also picked the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall. It is a curious set of circumstances, to say in the least.”

“What are you implying?” Seeker Cassandra asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing,” Trevelyan replied, her smirk completely gone from her face. “I am simply making an empirical observation.” She lowered her head in a nod to Cassandra and then to him. “Good day, Seeker, Commander.”

Trevelyan walked out of the War Room and both Cassandra and Cullen watched as she stopped amongst the Chantry sisters and spoke with them in gentle words and smiles. Cassandra’s eyes were still narrowed when she remarked, “I believe she is chosen, I know what I saw, but she makes a good point – why would Andraste choose a mage?”

The Chantry was dark due to lack of windows and the only light source were the open doors and the candles upon tables and sconces, but he could still see the flash of her eyes as Trevelyan spoke to the sisters, the kind smile that graced her face as she listened, her red hair and tan skin outlined in light from the door. Before Knight-Commander Meredith had turned on the Templar Order in Kirkwall, Cullen would have questioned having a mage having any position of influence or power. He would have insisted on having the woman put in isolation until they were sure of her of intentions and assumed her untrustworthy from the beginning.

But what had happened in Kirkwall had changed him. How could he judge this situation and stay neutral and true to the Inquisition? She had already become a symbol and symbols could not be locked away. No, his job was the give military advice and manage the soldiers of the Inquisition – he would not let his personal feelings disrupt his duties.

“I suppose we will find out, one way or another,” Cullen finally replied.


End file.
